


Hot Winter Nights

by tess1978



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, POV First Person, Present Tense, Sharing a Bed, Touch-Starved, Tropes, Unacknowledged Attraction, Unprofessional Workplace Relationships, Unspoken words, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tess1978/pseuds/tess1978
Summary: A cold walk along the shore in the winter leads to Danse and an unnamed sole sharing bedding for warmth.





	1. December

**Author's Note:**

> Partly inspired by a GIF going around on tumblr.

The wind is bitter but i’m barely blinking anymore as I trudge along behind the steel-armoured shape in front of me. I try to keep him in sight, jogging sometimes to keep pace with his long strides, but the exertion is not enough to warm me. 

We have been walking since dawn, trying to make our way back to the airport. It should have only been a few hours of walking but although the cold and bitter wind is keeping the bugs away, it’s doing nothing to stop the mirelurks who inhabit the shore.

My clothing is not suited to this weather. Although I long ago traded my Vault suit for a Brotherhood jumpsuit and I am wearing a thick leather bomber jacket over top, I have no hat, no gloves, and even the turned up collar is not enough to keep the snow and ice from running down my neck. 

I’ve never been this cold in my life.

The sun is going down already and we are nowhere near the airport. I barely notice it getting dark. My head is down against the wind and so when the Paladin stops, i run into the back of him, rubbing my numb fingers on my forehead where it struck his armour.

“There’s a cabin there, I suggest we go in and spend the night, try to get out of this weather. It’s clear we aren’t going to make it.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble, and follow him as he heads to the shack.

It’s dark and drafty, but there is a fireplace and the roof has no obvious holes. It’s a good place to stay, the Paladin says, but I can barely hear him. As soon as I stopped moving I began shaking and now my whole body is wracked with shivers.

He breaks apart an old bed frame, dragging the mattress in front of the fireplace. He uses the frame to start a fire and directs me to remove my coat and boots. I’m in danger of hypothermia, he tells me, and I obey his commands as much out of habit as self preservation.

The bedroll is pulled from our packs and I’m seated by the fire, still shivering, The Paladin heats up some soup, leftover from our supper yesterday, and when he hands it to me in a tin mug I drink it gratefully, and although the shaking stops, I still feel as if my very bones are shafts of ice, chilling me from within. 

We find some old clothing in a crate and stuff them in the biggest cracks in the wall. We turn our backs politely while we change into more comfortable clothing to sleep in. 

The bedframe is old and dry and burning fast; although it’s warm in this shack for now, there is little else to burn, and it will grow cold again before too long. The Paladin gruffly suggests we share the mattress and bedding. I nod in agreement. 

The Paladin throws the last few sticks on the fire, along with the broken up crate, and climbs under the blanket next to me, maintaining a polite distance, and soon I’m asleep.

***

I awaken slowly, deliciously warm, blinking at the embers glowing red in the fireplace. There is still warmth coming off the hearth, but that is not what’s heating me up.

It takes a moment to realize the heavy weight on my waist is the Paladin’s hand, the warm air on my neck is his breath. He’s curled around my back, his body pressed to mine, and judging by the rate of his breathing, he’s asleep. 

I should move his hand. I should wake him, remind him (and me) of our professional relationship, but the warmth of his hand on my belly is sending liquid heat through my veins, and I am realizing how long it’s been since I’ve been touched.

Almost against my will, a soft sound escapes my throat. A moan, maybe. Or a hum. It must have awakened the Paladin because I hear his breathing change, an almost imperceptible stiffening of his body at my back. 

A muttered apology, and the hand begins a retreat. Without thinking, I grab his wrist before he can escape, holding him in place. 

A pause. The moment seems to last a lifetime. Have I overstepped my bounds? Has he? I wait, my eyes clenched, on the edge of maybe, no, uncertainty, and just as I am about to release him, to roll over and cover my face in embarrassment, I feel him relax.

His fingers splay against my belly. I release his wrist and he spreads his hand wide for a moment before sliding downwards, finding the hem of my shirt and slipping underneath.

He traces ever widening circles on the skin of my stomach, stirring up the embers inside me with every swipe. My shirt rides higher, and his thumb brushes the underside of my breast, once, before pausing. 

I purse my lips, tense, waiting to see what he will do next, and when he moves his hand higher to cup my breast in his hand, to flick the nipple with his finger, I let my breath out with a soft whoosh, arching my ass into the curve of his body and meeting an answering firmness. 

He’s always so professional, so dedicated. I’ve never seen a hint of heat or soft emotion from him, but the quickening pace of his breath at my neck implies feelings I have never considered from him. He’s never indicated any interest in me before. But then again, neither have I. 

I don’t know what I feel, but it’s been so long, so long since I felt the touch of another human being on my body, that I don’t care. All I care about is finding out what his hands feel like on my body. My whole body.

I reach up and take his wrist again, pulling his hand lower, and he takes the hint, sliding it into the waistband of my pants and lower, finding my junction. His hand slips between my legs and I moan lightly. I feel his mouth on my neck, soft kisses pressed to my skin as his fingers press against me, rubbing me lightly through my panties.

I can feel the fabric growing wet. My body is eager for his touch, and he can feel it too. He removes his hand for a moment, just the briefest instant, and then it’s back again, inside my panties, sliding in the heated wetness of my core.

He grinds his hips lightly against my ass, and I reach behind me, cupping him through his pants for a moment. He thrusts against my hand, as eager for my touch as I am for his. I wonder if it’s been as long for him as it has for me. 

I slip my hand into his pants and find his cock, hard in my palm as I stroke it lightly. He moans into my hair and the sound seems to reverberate through my body, pooling between my legs. I move my thigh, lifting it slightly. He traces my folds with the pad of his finger, teasing me lightly until I am whimpering in need. My hand on his cock is still moving, but erratically, as my focus is on what he’s doing between my legs.

His fingers glide through my slick and he circles my clit, brushing against it gently. I gasp and my hips twitch. He responds by sliding two long fingers into me, curling them and pressing his palm to my clit. I gasp and rock into his palm. I can feel him inside me, stroking me, filling me. 

My mind is blanking. I pull my hand out of his pants and place it over his, urging him to go faster, harder, my mind incoherent as all thoughts retreat to be replaced by the mindless need to come. 

I’m talking now, whispered words, _fuck, yes, please_ and the like until finally, _finally_ I tip over the brink, white light in front of my eyes. Sparks and shooting stars and all that shit, and I hold his hand still against me as I ride out the wave in the palm of his hand.

He’s removed his fingers from me by the time my thoughts return to something resembling normalcy, but his mouth is still at the nape of my neck, his breath in my hair, and I realize belatedly from the urgency of his breathing and short, staccato movements that he’s jerking off behind me.

I should help, return the favour, maybe, and i move to reach behind me but he stops me and it takes me a moment to realize it’s because I’m too late, he’s already coming, a low moan ending in muttered curses rumbling up from his chest. He stills. 

I wait. I don’t know what to do. I’m awkward suddenly, feeling oddly like I intruded on a personal moment somehow. After a moment he sits up and I hear rifling and shuffling, then he’s back again, inside the blanket, and the polite distance has returned.

I want to say something, maybe. I feel an absurd desire to apologize, and I don’t exactly know why. I tug my shirt down and turn my face into the mattress. I can’t bring myself to say anything, though, and soon his breathing has slowed down and I realize it’s too late.


	2. January

It was awkward, the next morning. Danse didn’t look me in the eye as we packed up to go. But to be honest, I couldn’t look him in the eye either. What had happened… it wasn’t personal. Or maybe it was too personal for our cordial working relationship. And so it has remained unacknowledged, an unspoken agreement that it never happened. We have worked together ever since, that one brief moment in the cabin almost forgotten.

Except sometimes at night, in my bunk, when I think of his hands on my skin…

We’re off together again, headed northwest this time. We need to check the status of an old subdivision. There’s word that there are supermutants. 

The day is bright and we approach the area with caution, assessing the situation. Seven supermutants, two hounds. More than we can take on in a direct fight. But I have mines, and I spend an hour planting them. After that, it’s just a matter of shooting the right mutant in the head, leading rest of them into a stampede directly at us and into the trap we set.

By the time we’ve searched the area for any stragglers and scavenged for supplies it’s growing dark and a light snow is falling. The Paladin suggests we stay in one of the houses for the night and I agree, trying not to think of the last time we bedded down together. We haven’t been alone together at night since then, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s on his mind as well as he barricades the door and sets a fire in the wood stove.

We eat in silence, sitting on the bedrolls.. I stare at the fire, trying not to look at him, but my eyes slide over unbidden, gazing at his hands as he holds his mug, long fingers with square, clean nails. He takes a drink and I follow the course of the mug as he brings it to his lips, his throat as he swallows, his adam’s apple moving underneath the coarse stubble of his beard. His jawline, his thick hair, his eyes…

He’s looking right at me. 

I look away, I feel my face heating up. I stare again at the fire, my lip clenched between my teeth. 

I hear him take a heavy breath, releasing it slowly through his nose. 

“Knight,” he says. 

I ignore him, not really wanting to hear a reprimand, a lecture on rules or the Brotherhood codex or whatever he’s about to go on about.

“Knight,” he says again. “We need to clear the air.”

I mutter a sound. Not assent. Not disagreement. Just… acknowledgement.

He takes another breath, and I wonder what he’s bracing himself to say. 

“I just want you to know you don’t have to feel uncomfortable. What happened… you don’t need to worry. It won’t happen again and you don’t need to worry about sleeping here with me.”

I wait, my heart pounding. I feel sick. My stomach is twisting. _But what if I want it to happen again,_ I think.

“What?” he says, and I realize belatedly I’ve spoken aloud. My face heats up more.

I glance at him, expecting a scowl, but instead I see his brows lifted, his eyes wide, his mouth in a shocked O of surprise. I look at him, scrutinizing his expression. 

I should turn away. I should mutter something, some vague words of agreement perhaps. But instead I watch him, looking him in the eye. He closes his mouth, licks his lips. My eyes drop to his mouth for a moment, remembering the feel of it on my neck. When I look him in the eye again his brows are lowered and I see something else. Something inscrutable.

I don’t think. I can’t. If I think, I might change my mind and right now I need to be reckless. I rise to my knees and shuffle over to him until i’m right in front of him, close enough to feel his breath on my cheek. I close my eyes for the briefest moment, before I whisper again, “but what if I want it to happen?”

He is watching me, his eyes wide again, and it’s all I can do not to move, to run away, to lean forward and taste him, to -

His hand comes up and he winds his fingers into my hair, and then he’s pulling me close and with a soft groan his lips are on mine.

My heart is beating so fast, it’s in my ears and throat and my pulse ripples out of me as a soft sound, my hands coming to rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer still. I can feel his arm sliding around my back and then my body is flush against him and his mouth is hot on mine, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I open them and he dips inside.

I can feel my breasts mashed flat against his chest, my nipples tightening, and I move slightly, creating a delicious friction. He must have taken it the wrong way because he pulls back, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “This is not... appropriate. I’m your superior officer and I don’t want you to feel pressured - ”

“I do want this. But if you don’t -” maybe he’s making excuses.

“No, I do! I… I did. I’ve wanted to since the day I first saw you. And that night… I thought I was dreaming at first. And then after… Oh god.” He runs his hand through his hair. I’m stunned. Has he been holding this in all this time? 

“Danse.” 

His name on my lips halts his rambling, and suddenly I want to laugh. I do laugh. I feel light and breathless and he looks so fucking _good_ just staring at me, wide-eyed.

“I want you.” I whisper the words against his mouth and he groans as he pulls me onto his lap, kissing me as though I was all he’d ever asked for in life. 

By the time his mouth moves lower, the faint scrape of his chin on my throat is sending a heated ripple through my body. I shift so that I’m straddling him, my thighs on either side of his. He places his hands on my hips, his fingers pressing into me firmly.

When I roll my hips against him he grips me tightly, holding me still, preventing me from moving. He slides me back onto his thighs, then takes the hem of my shirt and pulls it up over my head, tossing it to the side. The firelight glints in his hair and eyes, bronze and gold in the flickering light. I place my hands on either side of his face and kiss him again. 

He reaches behind me to remove my bra and I lean forward and then back to allow it, and when it’s off he tosses it aside and bends his head to my breast, his eager mouth on my nipple. He flicks it with his tongue until it hardens, then draws it deep within his mouth until it’s tingling, sending an answering heat straight to my core.

I look down at his dark, glossy hair as he sucks hard, almost painfully on my nipple. It’s like there’s a conduit from my breast to my pussy and it tightens and floods in response. I roll against him again, seeking contact, and my clit rubs against his cock through the layers of clothing between us. 

His hands are on my back, sliding down to the waistband of my pants, sliding inside to cup my ass as I rock against him again. He abandons my breast and looks me in the face. I run my thumbs over his eyebrows, the faint scar on his brow and cheek, his full lips, and when I kiss him this time the desperation is gone, replaced by a tenderness that makes my heart pound in my throat. 

He moves his fingers to the button of my pants and I stand up to strip. He does the same, pulling off his clothing with shaking hands, and I can feel his eyes on me the whole time. When I settle back on his thighs again, bare and exposed, he runs his hands over my body in one movement from my shoulders to my calves. His mouth finds my throat and I can hear him whispering in the crook of my neck, a steady stream of words. _”Beautiful,”_ he whispers. _”So soft. Want you.”_ Every word washes over me, bringing me deeper into a swirling fog of need. 

I move again and my pussy brushes his cock. Danse groans and holds me still again. He brushes his fingertips against my belly, lower. “I want to see you this time. I want to watch your face as…” 

He doesn’t finish. His fingers slip between my legs. I’m wet. I can feel him sliding in my slick and I moan. I try to hide my face in his shoulder but he won’t let me. He watches me as he presses his fingers inside me, his thumb on my clit. I’m embarrassed and so exposed. I close my eyes and it’s better. I can focus now. Concentrate on what he’s doing to me. His thumb circles my clit, not too hard, his fingers inside me and-

-oh. Oh oh, I’m coming now. I cry out and my eyes open and his eyes are watching me and somehow it intensifies everything and my whole body stiffens and clenches and clenches and oh god dammit oh.

This time when my face falls to his shoulder he lets it. Lets me hide there as the aftershocks wrack my body. I whimper when his fingers slide out of me. I’m warm and almost sleepy now, my breathing slows but I am coming back to myself enough to realize his hands are roaming my body and his breath is whispering in my ear. 

My name on his lips reawakens me. I notice his hard cock pressed against my belly. It reminds me that we aren’t done yet. I reach between us and wrap my fingers around it. He’s hard and so satiny smooth, steel wrapped in silk, I want to touch him. I crave it. I put my other hand around it and stroke him, and the groan that rumbles up from his chest seems to settle in my belly. 

I want him. I can’t get close enough. I want his cock in my hands and my mouth and my pussy, all at once. I want to give the same feelings to him he gave to me, I want to drag moans from his lips and feel his hands on my body and watch his face as he loses control.

I tilt my hips, rubbing myself along his length. It feels so good and I can’t wait to feel him inside me. I push him back so he’s laying on the floor, then reach between us and guide him to my entrance.

I watch his face as I sink down onto him. His eyes close and his breath leaves him in a whoosh. He bites his lip and throws his head back as he tries to maintain control. I’m stretching as I take him in, the fullness in my cunt as I fully seat myself makes me whimper slightly but I bear down anyway. His face is red and beads of sweat form on his brow, shimmering in the light of the fire. 

He’s in. I settle down the last bit and find myself flush against him. My body seems to move of its own accord now, moving on top of him, his hands resting on my thighs as I move my hips, his cock sliding more easily within me with each stroke. I sit up straighter, the angle pushing him deeper, and he is moaning now as I speed up. My hands are on his belly and I can feel the tension rising within me again. 

My name is spilling from his lips in a steady stream and he sets his heels into the floor and thrusts up into me, holding me in place with his hands on my hips. I tip forward, meeting him on every thrust, angling myself so his cock brushes that sweet spot inside me, chasing my orgasm.

It’s so close, so close. I reach between us and with one brush of my fingertips I’m done, waves and black and white, and I barely register his cock pulsing inside me as he comes too, his fingers digging into me and his voice saying things I can’t even register and when I fall forward onto his chest he catches me in his arms and I know I’m safe.

***

It’s not awkward now, this time. He wipes me off and there is a tender look in his brown eyes I have never seen before. I curl up next to him and his lips brush my hair. I want to say something, maybe. I feel an absurd desire to tell him I love him, and I don’t exactly know why. I turn my face into his chest. I can’t bring myself to say anything, though, and soon his breathing has slowed down and I realize it’s too late.

As my eyes flutter closed and i drift off to sleep, it occurs to me that maybe not. It’s not too late. There’s always tomorrow.


End file.
